TRP: Mishka and Tricksy (Infested Dream)
Day 373(?). Tricksy Smirnova's dream, as facilitated by Ombre. The Banshee's captain's quarters were at the aft of the ship, with the back wall itself a spiderwebbing array of stained glass window panes. If the deep red, blue, green, orange, and colorless panels outlined a scene, it wasn't apparent what it was. It was that way outside of the dream, however, not muddled by the vagueness of sleep. In fact, everything was sharp and pristine. The bed was made smartly. No clothes or weapons had been tossed around thoughtlessly, and there weren't any knickknacks on shelves -- there were maps and diagrams pinned up, and there were shelves filled with books and nautical navigation equipment. A small cedar box with a brass clasp sat on the bedside table, alongside a thick book with a ribbon marking a place, but both were set at specific right angles to each other and the edges of the table. All as it had been in life. Tricksy Smirnova had been a navy woman once, a long time ago, before turning to piracy, but the navy stayed with her. The Pirate Queen of the Northern Wastes herself sat in the blotchy patchwork light of the window, at a small desk. It didn't appear to be day out; it didn't appear to be any time at all, or any place, but there was light refracting through the glass. She sat with her back pin-straight and her legs stretched out, ankles crossed, her clothing as immaculate as her quarters. Her hair, though, was untamed, long and black and curling around her horns and ears and shoulders, down her back. She'd been a dark magenta color once, but she was stark white since her death, only her lips even faintly pink -- but largely washed out and corpse-like. There was a faint sound of flies buzzing. It didn't come from anywhere in the room except for her. She looked at Mishka coolly and gestured for him to sit, if he liked, in the comfortable, plush chair on the other side of the desk. COYOTE Mishka made himself comfortable. “How are you?” he asked. IZZY She watched him impassively. Her voice was flat and cool. "I'm well." The buzzing seemed to get louder when she spoke. COYOTE It’d been a long time since Mishka saw Tricksy. Fifteen years? He couldn’t remember if this was— different, or the same. A lot of that time period felt patchy. He thought maybe the flies buzzing was a bad sign, but— wasn’t like she could help it. Flies buzzing didn’t make someone evil, did they? Being undead didn’t make someone evil, Mishka didn’t think. “Right, you say that, but I hear flies buzzing every time you speak,” Mishka said. “Your corporeal form doing alright, pal?” He elegantly crossed one leg over the other. IZZY "I'm dealing with a minor infestation," she told him, with no inflection. COYOTE “Y’know what’d probably get rid of that? Bugs don’t like fire, right? I could— ah, never mind, that’d probably kill you. Hm. Well, alternate idea: What if you just dunked yourself in the ocean a while? Stayed down there for a good week. It’d kill all the flies. Not like you need to breathe.” Mishka was really fucking uncomfortable. IZZY "These are good ideas," she allowed. "I'm taking a different approach and weaponizing them." COYOTE “Ah. Well. Okay.” Mishka kept his face smooth and bored. “I missed you,” he admitted. “Are you— okay, up in your ice fortress? Emotionally. Spiritually, one might say.” God. He wanted to shut up and physically couldn’t. IZZY "I'm well," she said again. She tilted her head. "I'm on my way to the south. I've missed you, too." COYOTE “Mm. Mhm.” He wanted to say, Right, okay, you’re feeling well. Is that the word? Feeling? Do you still have those? Feelings? I’m concerned. God. She looked so different. Mishka stuffed his knuckles in his mouth to make himself stop talking. He took a moment to compose himself, then said— “Do you know what happened to Jonesy?” IZZY She raised an eyebrow. "You exploded her ship, from what I heard. I assume she's licking her wounds in a tavern somewhere." Tricksy didn't sound remotely concerned about her sister. COYOTE Mishka glanced away. “Why— why are you helping me with Hansel? With the... the scroll thing, I mean.” IZZY "You helped me," she said, like it was obvious. COYOTE “I suppose. How did you find out about that scroll?” IZZY "I've been researching godly possessions. Auril is common, up north," she said idly. "A great many temples and clerics and paladins. It was lucky that a scroll relating to her exists, because the amount of myth and rumor surrounding her is frankly overwhelming." COYOTE And she just... offered the information to Mishka. Freely. Surely, Mishka thought, Tricksy couldn’t be evil, not really. Being undead didn’t automatically make you evil, right? Right. That was... that was racist. “Thank you,” Mishka said. IZZY "Of course," she said. COYOTE "Do you need anything from me?" He kept his voice careful. IZZY She tilted her head at him. "Need? No." She sounded mildly confused and intrigued. COYOTE Ah, she looked like Nixie when she tilted her head like that. Mishka felt himself soften a little, which-- only made him more uncomfortable, frankly. "I was just wondering," he said. "I hate to think you're all alone in that ice fortress--" He stopped himself there. She already said she was fine, and it would only look like false empathy. "I have a question," he said. "Do you worship Auril? I met a strange young woman claiming to be her oracle. A tiefling." His eyes flickered up to Tricksy's horns. IZZY "Not worship." She leaned back in her chair, thoughtful. "An oracle, though. That's interesting." COYOTE "Aye. She says Auril is coming." Mishka watched her face. IZZY "Interesting," Tricksy said again. She remained impassive. COYOTE "No interest in an evil ice god coming down to the mortal plane to wreak havoc on the world? Seems like a problem, frankly. Not sure how I feel about it." IZZY "From what I understand, those who claim to see the future aren't always right about it," Tricksy mused. She clicked her short, round nails against the desk in a precise order. "I imagine it can be prevented." COYOTE "Huh. Y'know, I was thinking we could just murder her once she got to this plane, but that's a good point. We could just... stop her. Good thought, Tricks." IZZY She smiled faintly. "I should speak with this oracle, once I'm there. She may have something to do with it." COYOTE He'd made her smile. A bit. Barely. Not as much as she used to, no, but it was there nevertheless. "I'll introduce you," Mishka said, mostly because Luna was weird and delicate and he wanted to make sure Tricksy wasn't cruel to her. IZZY "You're keeping her somewhere, I presume." COYOTE "Mm. No family. Looking after her. Seems a bit daft, honestly. Doesn't seem to have a head injury, but... I think she needs a little guidance, is all. I think people have been looking after her, so she's not used to doing things for herself," Mishka said. Maybe when he woke up in the morning, he'd take her to the market and show her around Patch Island. Buy her some normal clothes. IZZY Tricksy tilted her head slightly. "Guidance? You're ... looking after her?" COYOTE "Well... yes." IZZY She studied him for a moment, then dismissed it. "Very well, then." She paused. "It'll be good to see you again." COYOTE "I know," Mishka said. A tongue-in-cheek joke. "It always is." Then he said, "It'll be good to see you again, Tricks." And he meant it. God, he really hoped she wasn't horrifyingly evil. He'd already fucked up so many people. Maybe she really was okay. She kept saying so. end Category:Text Roleplay